


Bloody kiss

by RussianWitch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Song Lyrics, Werewolves, in this fandom you can't avoid biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris should have taken a chance.</p><p>The lyrics is Meatloaf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beta'd

When he kisses Peter, he tastes blood and spice.

Not surprising since the lower half of Peter's face is covered in it and gore. Peter's shirt sticks to his chest, blood is still dripping from his claws. In short he looks like he's bathed in blood, killed someone and ate their heart.

Peter looks like he's just finished a very enjoyable fight the winner.

It's the grin that does it: the white crescent of Peter's lecherous grin slicing through the gore aimed at him like an arrow to the heart. Afterwards Chris has the faint aftertaste of copper in his mouth. He suspects that he'll be tasting copper for months every time he sees the werewolf.

He dreams about the incident night after night, about Peter not stepping away turning around and slinking off when he hears the kids in the distance but rapidly coming closer.

Chris found himself wishing that the kids had stayed away longer, maybe then Peter wouldn't have left. He remembers feeling the way Peter's body was still taunt, his blood had still been racing the bloodlust not completely satisfied.

Werewolves have two ways to calm down when the bloodlust is upon them: hunt until it is satisfied, until their bellies are full and they get lazy or fuck it out if violence isn't an option.

_On a hot summer night,_  
 _would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?_

In hindsight Chris wishes he had offered...bared his throat to the hungry wolf.

_Will he offer me his mouth?_

The Peter in his imagination would have accepted.

Chris imagines the wolf kissing him again, scraping too sharp teeth over his lips, leaving his mouth to lick across his jaw and down his throat. He imagines Peter wiping the blood from his face across Chris' skin then licking it off while marking Chris with his scent at the same time. They could have torn each other's clothing off, bloody rags all around them on the ground. Peter slippery in his grasp leaving bloody handprints on Chris' body that he can lick off later.

_Will he offer me his teeth?_

Chris wants to feel Peter's teeth on his skin.

He isn't even sure if he would care if the teeth are human or the wolf's fangs leaving dents in his flesh but he wants to feel them leaving a mark, leaving Peter's mark all over him so that Chris has proof later on that he's been owned.

_Will he offer me his hunger?_

The downside of slaking the bloodlust with sex is that the wolf remains hungry.

Everything has a sharper edge to it for the wolf as long as it rages.

Considering what Peter is, what he has been Chris will never be sure, not until he's released again that Peter isn't going to fall over the edge he's balancing on and simply rips Chris apart.

That's part of the attraction: getting his shirt torn to shreds by razor sharp claws that only leave thin lines on his skin for Peter's tongue to follow, Peter could makes his way down to mouth at Chris' abdomen and Chris wouldn't have any idea if it's just because Peter wants to have his mark on as much of Chris as possible or because he's gearing up to gut him.

_Again, will he offer me his hunger?_

Chris wonders if Peter sucks dick.

Peter has the mouth for it: that damn sarcastic mouth Chris has fantasized of punching and kissing and sowing shut, stuffing full of mountain ash and filling with his dick.

Chris has been thinking about Peter far too much since his wife died, she kept him on the straight and narrow and now he feels like he's blowing in the wind. Unfortunately he's always had the tendency to blow in the wrong direction.

He can imagine straddling Peter's chest, feeling Peter's claws on his thighs or ass as he shoves his dick onto the open mouth under him. This way he could watch Peter take it, watch him gagging and fighting the urge to bite down.

He thinks of turning around to fill his mouth with a pointy wolf dick while his own is sucked. Make it a competition to see who can last the longest, who can resist the urge to bite the best. He has spend a lot of time thinking what Peter could tastes like: the woods, dirt, musk and something that probably costs more than Chris would have ever spend buying perfume for his wife, never mind on aftershave.

Chris could take Peter as deep as he can, bury his nose in Peter's balls and not think about anything else but the scent and taste. He imagines surrounding himself with Peter for as short or as long a time as Peter will allow it and not think about any other damn thing but not choking on the werewolf.

_And will he starve without me?_

 Chris doesn't even care if he wins or loses in this imaginary competition.

Whoever breaks first will start thrusting into the other's mouth making them chock and slobber. He could watch his own spit drip down Peter's dick as it twitches in his mouth. He could enjoy Peter's tongue wrapping around his own dick and massaging his balls. Peter would make him work for it even if both of them were ready to come and in the privacy of his own mind Chris can admit that he would get off on it.

Chris wonders if he should have reservation about swallowing werewolf come.

No one has ever managed to find out what it is exactly that transfers the condition, but the sight of Peter falling apart above or below him breathless and blind with lust is one Chris wouldn't deny himself even at the risk of becoming werewolf. Worst case scenario he could always shoot himself in the head later.

Swallowing Peter's come would be as enjoyable as coming all over Peter's face and watching Peter lick it off wiping Chris' come off with his fingers then licking them clean. Fucking Peter's mouth Chris knows he would have trouble deciding if he wants to come down Peter's throat or on Peter's face. Imaginary Peter submits to both with a mocking smile and enthusiasm.

In Chris' fantasies Peter loves it, and maybe he does in real life as well since werewolves are fond of marking. Chris has seen all kinds of markings and never saw the appeal of permanent signs of ownership on a body, now he gets so hard he starts leaking at the thought of sinking his teeth into Peter's flesh and leaning a permanent imprint of himself.  

_And does he love me?_

Chris isn't sure where Peter stands in all of this.

One kiss under questionable circumstances doesn't say anything.

Peter could have done it expecting Chris to blink, could have done it in the heat of the moment and for a million other reasons. It doesn't mean that Chris should read anything more into it than they had been almost caught feeding on each other's mouths. And yet Chris can't help wishing that there had been more.

He could have used more just as much as Peter at that moment.

He'd spend the night tossing and turning in bed keeping his hands off his dick because Chris isn't that desperate. He didn't want to strip his dick until it's raw because of one little kiss.

Chris wonders how Peter dealt in the end.  

_On a hot summer night,_  
 _would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?_

 Maybe next time, Chris decides, he won't wait for Peter to take the initiative. 


End file.
